not dead yet

Yesterday was my 74th trip around the sun. We went to a Mexican restaurant for a late lunch and margaritas and I was so full that the stuffed feeling didn’t start to abate til about 8 PM and I have left overs for lunch today. I got text messages from two of my granddaughters, a long phone call from my son, and a visit from my daughter who came bearing a gift of three fancy desserts, none of which I sampled last night because see above.

I told Marc during lunch that I think I’m more freaked out about being in the mid 70s than I think I will be when I hit my 80s (positive thinking here kids, putting out in the universe what I desire). The reason being that people start dying in their 70s; my sister who was active, self sufficient, and basically healthy being a perfect example since she keeled over dead at 76 last year. So I looked up some statistics.

According to the Social Security actuarial tables, a female (me) who was 60 in 2015 will live to be 84, 70 in 2015 will live to be 86. I was 65 in 2015 so I should expect to live until I’m 85 at least. But then my sister, older by 3 years died at 76, almost a decade less than the expectation. Here’s another statistic, more than 20% of people will die before they are 70 while almost 60% will live past 80. In 2020 the average age of death in the US was 73.7. At 74 I’ve passed that milestone if only just barely. World wide the biggest cause of death is cardiovascular disease (what killed my sister) followed by cancer, respiratory diseases (in 2021 in the US that was covid specifically) and fourth, various dementias.

In my youth and hallucinatory drug days and later delving into metaphysics and Theosophy and Jung and even the ridiculed New Age stuff, I came to understand that all is one and one is all, that death of the physical body was not necessarily the death of consciousness, that death is really only birth in reverse when we shed the physical body we took on when we were born, that our consciousness cycles through what we think of as reality as independent beings and being absorbed into the All That Is; that past, present, and future are all happening simultaneously. Research and speculations coming out from quantum physics seems to support these notions. 

The upshot is that I’m not afraid of death, but I’m not ready for it either. That’s where the fear and anxiety comes in, that it will happen suddenly like it did for Pam. I saw her one day and she was happy and healthy and the next I found her basically dead on the ground from a massive stroke.  

She had had a heart attack at 50 and at least two TIAs that I’m aware of, one a year or so after her heart attack and one in the year of her death though I think she had at least two others last year, judging from observation, that she wouldn’t admit to because she didn’t want to go to the neurologist and go through all the tests because she was seriously claustrophobic. While I have not had a heart attack or any vascular blockages or mini-strokes, I do have afib which puts me in the cardiovascular disease column, number one killer of humans.

When my death comes, as it will for every living thing in this theater we call Earth, I want to be so fulfilled with life to the point of being tired of living, to be ready to say goodbye and willing to take that last breath and give up the ghost to rest and reflect and plan for the next go round.

In the meantime, I try to be a good person and, if I’m lucky, as loved as my sister was.